Better Recycled
by An.Aphrodite.Doll
Summary: A badly bruised, lone Draco Malfoy is met by the one man that actually cared about him, Seamus Finnigan albeit in secret before . However, Seamus is in a bit of a fix himself.
1. Unrequited

Chapter 1: Unrequited

Draco's POV

Yet again rain drizzled onto the tin roof that he found himself under. It was amazing how at home he felt in a trailer now despite his wealthy upbringing. One could assume that the young man of eighteen was simply taking shelter from a brewing storm, but really this was his home. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, was living in an American trailer park on the outskirts of a small town in Alabama. He had been there for two months, having conjured the building himself, though the original spell was meant to produce a cottage. Somehow he had botched the incantation and brought forth the tin shack that he resided in. Regardless, it would serve its purpose in the scheme of things.

Many a day had passed since the man had last seen the sun, but it was all for the better. His pale skin had retained its almost eerily ghast hue except for the remaining scars, littering a raised pink here and there. Draco would be lying if he said he was comfortable with the way his life was going, but what could he do now? He had been deserted by his family just after the war. Lucius had beaten him to a point where he questioned whether or not he was living or not. The Cruciatus curse had been murmured hundreds of time in his presence, and it was only at his mother's pleading was the Killing curse not cast by his father to end it. The blonde shivered at the memory of his torture, the evanescent silver of his eyes blurring with tears for the millionth time. Shaking his head, the locks of silvery blonde hanging off his shoulders fell into his face.

A knock at the door made Draco visually flinch, and at once he shrank away from the source of the sound. His wand was in his hand within seconds, and he was prepared to do his worst to whatever sort might come through the door. The blonde was thankfully clothed at this time, though minimally. He wore a tattered baby blue robe, having long since sold his more stunning ones out of necessity. This was all save for his knickers.

''_Ello? Anybody there_,' came a distinctly foreign, male voice from on the other side of the door; at least, Draco thought he heard it come from outside.

Scrambling to the door, the young man in blue's features transpired to a suspicious frown. Who was this person, and why were they coming to his secluded trailer in the middle of nowhere? It didn't make any sense. Draco had only had the slightest communications with people during his stay in Alabama, and this person was definitely from a European, though the accent was somewhat lower class than English to be sure. Another wizard perhaps? It would make sense, but just why would they be at his door like this? It was definitely something out of the orthodox that the blonde had gotten accustomed to. Sighing, he gave into his curiousity and opened the door of the screen to look at one young man he had not expected to see ever again when he fled the country.

One Seamus Finnigan's face met an apparently dumbfounded blonde, the former smiling brightly despite the rain soaking his sandy hair and the forest green robes he wore.

'_Seamus arse-fucking Finnigan is standing in front of my door in shithole, Alabama. Merlin really must hate me._'

Why was he there? Draco couldn't stop the sneer coming on, though his jaw was dropped at the same time. It came out looking somewhat like an angry fish, and the smile on the Irishman's face widened in an almost Cheshire manner. The blonde really was confused now. From what he could remember of the man before him, he absolutely despised the blonde and Slytherins in general; however, one wouldn't know it by the look of adoration accompanying Seamus's grin. There was a long moment when nothing was said, only the sound of rain on metal and an awkward silence reigned. Then something incredible happened, and suddenly the Irish lad was upon him, pulling Draco's thin frame towards him unexpectedly and with unforseen vigor. The other man was wet with precipitation and smelled of something spicy and everything Draco found intoxicating.

Even more erratic than the movement was the blonde's rapid heartbeat, pounding in his aching chest. The taller man was still smiling, though the lids of his eyes were slowly closing; and he was leaning down towards Draco's face. Confusion crossed the man's face as his lips were pleasantly invaded, but his eyes definitely closed of their own accord. he melted into the strong arms starting to envelop him, and sighed through the other man's lips lightly. A million different emotions threatened to pour into the kiss, but his mind finally snapped him out of whatever spell had overcome him. What was he doing? He was allowing another bloke to kiss him, that's what! This was not going to happen again. Pulling away violently, Draco threw himself from Seamus with a feigned groan of disgust.

"Are you bleeding mad, Finnigan? You sodding poofter, get away from me," the blonde exclaimed in false outrage, though his lying was point on.

Seamus had the decency to look embarrassed, though the blush spreading onto his cheeks may have been a trick in the misty haze. More silence followed, but no apology or response was heard from the other boy. What was this? Some sort of game? Draco's wand had been in his hand the entire time, but now he brought it up to level with the other man's face.

"Answer me. What were you thinking, Finnigan?"

'_I was thinking that I very much am in love with you._'


	2. Time Still Exists

Chapter 2: Time Still Exists

Seamus's POV

_The day had been long, and the boy was beyond exhausted as he wandered through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was late now, and it was only by the light of his wand that he could see more than a few feet in front of him. Presently Seamus had gotten lost yet again, his sense of direction failing him once more. He could feel a draft tickling his sandaled feet, and there seemed to be whispers coming from all around. It was on nights like this one that he would much prefer to be with Dean or Neville instead of all alone. He wasn't quite afraid of the dark, but he was certainly wary with the way things had been going in the Wizarding world. Even in the light of day, some of the fouler creatures had been snatching careless people._

_At Hogwarts, the boy knew he didn't have to worry about that sort of thing, but for some reason he was becoming more and more apprehensive on his trek to Gryffindor tower. It was his own fault, really, for staying out with the hippogriffs for as long as he had. They had been being bothered by a swarm of doxies, so the sandy haired teen had seen to it that the malevolent fae were sent packing with a few choice hexes. Even though it was only his sixth year at the school, he had become proficient in both the care of magical creatures and producing some potent hexes._

_Fortunately for Seamus, however, there were multiple wards set up in the hallways for the sole purpose of eliminating any nasties in the dark at night. Now he just had to remember which way was right, and where was that draft coming from? He swore he was going up, but the more he thought about it, the more he kept thinking he was heading into the confines of the dungeons and into Slytherin territory. So it would seem as though he should just turn around, but there was something egging him on into the school's lower levels, almost like being pulled along by an unseen hand._

_Where he was heading, there was the sound of a person singing softly. A light tenor could be heard on the wind, echoing down the hallway. It was almost angelic, though filled with a sorrow that chilled Seamus's heart. The voice was a boy's to be sure, and although it was familiar, the Irish boy didn't know who it was. As he approached, the lyrics became clearer._

_"I'm dancing in the room as if I was in the woods with you.  
No need for anything but music.  
Music's the reason why I know time still exists.  
Time still exists.  
Time still exists.  
Time still exists."_

_It was breathtaking how sincere the voice was, and at that moment his light was bright enough to cast a glow onto the person singing. A flash of silvery white was all that Seamus needed to see to know who had such an angelic voice. Draco Malfoy. It was impossible to register in the seventeen year old Irish's brain that such a gentle voice had come from the Slytherin prince; but it had. And suddenly, it was all that mattered. That voice had captured the boy's heart. Whatever pain that the angel was feeling, Seamus had the overwhelming urge to assuage it and protect him from everything._

_He had uttered the word "Nox" as quietly as possible and run the other way. He doubted that Draco had ever even realized that someone had been listening to him anyway. Seamus had fled to Gryffindor tower not unlike a dog with its tail between his or her legs. He was obviously confused, and he had no clue what the blonde's song had sparked in him emotionally, but whatever had occured had brought out something in him that he hadn't known was there at all. It was as if his heart was opened up wide, ready to devote everything then and there. What was most interesting, though, was that Seamus wanted that to happen more than anything in the world. He had gone to sleep that night to the first of many haunting dreams of pale skin, silver eyes, and blonde hair._

The smile on his face had never left, though there was a sudden pang of sadness in his small green eyes. He had been branded as somewhat of a hero of the war, though at what cost exactly? He had dared to tango with three Death Eaters at once, flinging hexes and countercurses like a pro. On the offhand of killing off two of his opponents, the third had caught him with a powerful dark magic curse. At first, it had seemed as though Seamus had simply been immune to any effects, but the result had been much more devastating than anything that he could have imagined. Attempting to cast a simple shield charm, the man was shocked to find that he could not speak a word. His voice had been severed, lost on the wind. From what he had been told, the spell had shattered his voice completely, though his vocal cords remained untouched. Resorting to physical violence, the Irishman had beaten the last of his opponents to death in a rage before breaking down in sorrow and fear. How could he, a wizard, lead a life without the ability to cast magic?

The answer was simple enough, at least his mother had told him so. Telepathic commmunication and wandless magic would become his most important tools, along with sign language for speaking to Muggles. Now, as he looked at Draco's bewildered face, he didn't know what else to say to elaborate on his declaration of love. He wasn't even sure if he really was in love with the other man, but it seemed to be so if the anxiety of wishing to kiss him was proof enough. Somehow when the blonde had pushed him away, Seamus had felt just like trash thrown out. Oh how he longed to be recycled, then and there. To be kissed again by this one person who might be understanding how he was feeling.

He had heard about Draco's predicament from Ron, funnily enough. Ron had been seeing the renowned and rich Blaise Zabini, a reliable source of information in the Slytherin niche of things. Apparently Lucius Malfoy had brought out the wrath of Lord Voldemort even after his death, and the heir to the fortune had apparently failed whatever purpose the Dark Lord had appointed him to. So he was exiled now, alone in America in the middle of nowhere. But Seamus had found him now, at long last. He was so very happy to see the other man, although the entire thing must have seemed almost random to the blonde in front of him in pale blue attire. Just what was Draco thinking?


End file.
